Every nerve ending in Nick’s body responded to that touch. His breath shuddered before he could stop it.
Adam smiled. He shifted closer, putting his palm against the side of Nick’s face, sliding fingers through his hair. He leaned in to breathe along Nick’s jaw. “Or something like this?”
If Nick turned his head, their lips would meet. Adam’s weight pressed into his side, warm and solid and masculine. Just from those simple touches, Nick’s body was responding more forcefully than it ever had with any girl. Heck, once Quinn had climbed in his lap and unbuttoned his pants, and his body hadn’t stood at attention the way it did for Adam’s palm on his cheek.
His brain might have been a hot mess, but his body was definitely not confused.
Adam moved closer still, pressing his lips to the hollow below Nick’s jaw, sliding his hand out of Nick’s hair and down his neck. His movements were strong, confident, nothing like the feather-soft touches of a girl. Adam’s hand slid lower, squeezing Nick’s chest through the T-shirt.
Nick swore and grabbed his face, bringing their lips together because he couldn’t take it. Adam kissed him back with equal force. Nothing hesitant, tongues and heat and strength. Nick’s hands found Adam’s neck, his shoulders, the muscled planes of his chest. Tugging at his shirt yielded the smooth skin of Adam’s waist, the curve of his rib cage.
Adam grabbed the waistband of Nick’s jeans and jerked him closer. Nick’s breath caught. His brain stopped working. He wanted to throw Adam down on the couch.
So he did just that.
But when he followed him down, Adam put a hand against his chest. “Easy,” he said between breaths.
“The hell with easy.” Nick knocked his hand away and kissed him again, pinning his wrist against the cushion.
Adam smiled and yielded, kissing him back before putting his free hand against Nick’s shoulder.
Nick grabbed his hand and pinned that one, too. But then he realized Adam had tried to stop him twice. He broke the kiss. Their breathing turned loud in the space between them.
The tiniest bit of tension hung around Adam’s eyes, but his voice was teasing. “The hell with easy, huh?”
Nick blushed fiercely. He actually felt the heat crawl up his neck.
Adam laughed, but quickly sobered. He flexed his wrists. “You’re strong.”
“Sorry.” Nick let him go. But he didn’t draw back.
“I wasn’t complaining.”
Nick wasn’t sure how to read this, and it wasn’t like he had a ton of experience to draw from. “You stopped me.”
“I stopped us.” Adam paused and put his hand against Nick’s face, almost a caress. Nick closed his eyes and inhaled.
Then Adam’s voice lost the softness. “Let me up.”
What could he do? Nick shifted back, sitting on the edge of the couch. This felt like a prelude to rejection.
You’re safe here.
No. He wasn’t. He didn’t feel safe anywhere. Emotion clawed at his throat. He’d let a wall down, and now he was furiously trying to put the bricks back together.
Were they going too fast? Had he done that, or had Adam? The hell with easy.
For a breathless instant, it had been amazing to let go of thought, to let instinct rule his motions. But now he was paying for it, and he couldn’t analyze everything fast enough.
“Look.” Adam drew a hand down his face. “I don’t want you—”
“Forget it.” Nick shoved off the couch. The path to the door seemed a mile long.
“Hey.” Adam came after him. “Hey.”
Nick’s hand closed on the doorknob. Adam grabbed his arm. He was stronger than Nick was ready for, and he spun him around.
Most girls couldn’t do that, either.
“What?” Nick demanded. The air had dropped ten degrees.
“Well, you’re definitely gay. A straight guy wouldn’t be such a drama queen.”
Nick set his jaw. “Let me go.”
“Can I finish what I was going to say?”
Nick stared back at him. For all his gentle grace, Adam had a core of strength. Nick had seen it once before, and he was seeing it now.
“Fine,” he said. “You don’t want me . . . ?”
“I don’t want you to rush into something you’re not ready for.” Oh.
Adam’s hand loosened on his bicep, but he didn’t let go. “I’ve dated guys before who don’t want to be out. It’s a personal decision, and I get it, but . . .”
Nick swallowed. “But what?”
Adam looked at him, hard. “But if you wake up hating yourself, I don’t want you taking it out on me.”
Nick studied him, allowing some of the earlier moments to click into place. Adam asking if Gabriel would hurt Nick. The tension in his eyes when he said, “You’re strong.”
Even now, he was holding himself at a slight distance.
There was more to Adam’s story, hiding behind this easy self-confidence.
Nick shifted his weight, and Adam almost flinched. Without the air to reinforce his impression, Nick might have missed it altogether.
Slowly, carefully, Nick reached his hands out and put them on Adam’s shoulders. “You’re safe here,” he said softly. “Okay?”
Adam’s eyes widened as Nick fed his words back to him.
Nick smiled, just a little. “You don’t have to watch your words or your thoughts or whatever has you so wound up.”
Now Adam was blushing. “Okay, okay—”
Nick kissed him. Not with the feverish intensity of a few moments ago, but a bare brush of lips.
When he tried to pull away, Adam caught his face and held him there, putting his forehead against his. “You’re going to break my heart. I can feel it.”
“Not if I can help it.” He put a hand over Adam’s, holding it to his cheek. “Slow?”
Adam nodded, turning his head to kiss Nick’s palm.
Then he grinned. “Well,” Adam said. “Slower.”
CHAPTER 5
Quinn pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up and shivered. She still had her dance shorts on, but there hadn’t been time to change. Her jaw hurt like a bitch, and she knew there’d be a bruise there tomorrow.
Her older brother had welcomed her home by slamming her face into the wall and demanding to know where his money was.
Like she had a clue. Quinn would be so happy when Jake went back to college. Her little brother Jordan had already taken to crashing at friends’ houses every night, rotating through his circle of gamer buddies so no one’s parents got suspicious.
Quinn had been sitting on the curb out in front of the 7-Eleven, but the old Korean woman who worked there had come out shrieking about teenagers loitering, so now Quinn was sitting on a milk crate out back, clinging to the darkness.
She was this close to stealing food from the Dumpster.
When she’d lived within walking distance of Becca’s house, Becca’s mom had always left her a plate of food. She’d known about Quinn’s disagreements